


Show Stealer

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Series: Outside Edge [29]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blaine Friendly, Fluff, Humor, Ice Skating, M/M, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 03:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12808830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: Kurt is trying to show his family and friends his Cornell admissions video, but someone keeps snagging his spotlight.





	Show Stealer

**Author's Note:**

> So this comes some time after Blaine moves in with Sebastian and before Kurt gets into Cornell. It's inspired by all of the videos we watch of people skating on YouTube, that they film themselves at their rinks, and the unfortunate people stuck in the background. I know that I'm in the background of a few videos, and I often wonder - how was my hair? Did I look fat? Was I doing something stupid? XD

“Kurt? Are you okay in there, honey?” Elizabeth calls, anxiously waiting on the sofa beside her husband, with Sebastian and Blaine occupying the arm chairs, all eager for Kurt to give them the ‘big presentation’ he’s gathered them together for.

“Yeah, babe! We’ve been sittin’ here for _fifteen minutes_! I’ve already finished my bowl of popcorn!”

“Okay, okay! I’m coming!” Kurt emerges from the kitchen, sashaying into the living room with a bottle of sparkling cider and four plastic flutes in hand. “Thank you for your patience,” he says, doling out the glasses. “And without further ado ...”

Burt takes the bottle from Kurt to help open and pour. “Without further ado _what_ exactly?”

His hands free, Kurt digs into his back pocket and pulls out a flash drive. “I present to you - my Cornell admissions video!”

“Oh! This is so exciting!” Elizabeth squeals, barely holding still enough for Burt to fill her glass. “My baby’s applying to college!”

“It’s just a technicality,” Sebastian assures her. “There’s no way Cornell isn’t going to accept the most talented figure skater in America, especially with the GPA he’s packing.”

“But how did you get it done so quickly?” Blaine asks as Kurt plugs the drive into the Blu-ray player. “Didn’t you just start making it yesterday morning?”

“It’s not complete. This is the main body of my video – me showing off my skills. I still have to film an introduction. Plus, I want to include clips of me coaching, a tour of the trophy case at the rink, that sort of thing …”

“I told you, you should hire a professional videographer.” Sebastian puts a hand on Kurt’s hip and pulls his boyfriend onto his lap. “I know a guy. He can record you skating down at my rink where it’s _private_ , where he can control the sound and the lighting, splice in some footage of you competing, a montage of you receiving your medals …”

“But doesn’t that seem like overkill?” Kurt argues while he fiddles with the Blu-ray remote, preparing to press _play_. “I mean, I’ve already made a name for myself in this sport. Do I want to toot my own horn _that_ loudly?”

“Yes!” Sebastian and Blaine agree in unison.

“I want to keep things _simple,”_ Kurt continues, undeterred. “I don’t want to stand out because of my previous accomplishments. I mean, we all know that some judges are biased. I want my skating to speak for itself, and the best way for me to do that is to make a video that’s the same quality as everyone else’s is going to be.”

“But you’re not everyone else,” Sebastian says, putting an arm around Kurt’s waist and squeezing. “You’re _Kurt Hummel_ , National Champion and Olympic hopeful. You’ve earned the right to go to any school in the country that has a skating program that meets _your_ criteria, not the other way around.”

“Well, in this case, my criteria is _go to the same school as my boyfriend_.”

“I think Sebastian’s right,” Blaine says, earning him a wink from Sebastian and a roll of Kurt’s eyes. “Presentation is everything in figure skating, and the competition to get into Ivy League schools is stiff, even for someone with your impressive athletic background. A professionally produced video might seem like overkill to you, but it could be the thing that edges you one step ahead of another equally impressive applicant.”

“Blaine’s right, kiddo,” Burt says. “Never doubt the power of a good first impression.”

“Also,” Elizabeth chimes in, “not having a professionally produced video might make you appear cocky, as if you think you don’t need to pull out all the stops you’re capable of in order to get in.”

“Wha---?” Kurt stares at his friends and family, so nonchalantly bursting the bubble he’d been happily floating around in since he’d finished editing. “Y--you guys haven’t even _seen_ my video yet, and you’re already telling me it’s not good enough to get me into Cornell!”

A collective sigh of guilt passes around the room. Sebastian whispers, “I’m sorry,” into Kurt’s back, accompanied by a trail of gentle kisses.

“I’m sorry, too, kiddo.”

“Me, three, Kurt.”

“You’re right,” Elizabeth says, reaching over to put an apologetic hand on her son’s knee. “Turn on the video. Let’s take a look at what you’ve got.”

“Okay,” Kurt says, a spark of excitement springing back up in his stomach. “So, I recorded this on my phone down at the Ice-plex. It highlights my upper level elements – double and triple Axel, loop, Lutz, Salchow, my original footwork, and my spin combinations.”

“What? No quads?” Sebastian teases.

“There may be one or two in there,” Kurt hints, peeking over his shoulder to wink at his boyfriend. “I’m not sayin’.”

“Oh my goodness! Who’s that little sweetheart in the background?” Elizabeth asks, pointing to the screen. Both Blaine and Burt _aww_ with her before Kurt has the chance to turn around.

“I don’t know.” Kurt shrugs. “Just some kid who showed up early with his mom. I don’t think I’ve ever met them before.”

“He reminds me of you when you started out,” Burt says with a sentimental click of his tongue. “Look at those tiny Riedell skates!”

“He even looks like you!” Blaine says. “Look at those swooped-up bangs! And that stubborn little chin!”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s adorable,” Kurt grumbles, wishing he could skip past this section infected by that show stealer in a baby blue puff coat. He makes a mental note to go back through his video later and edit him out if he can. “Can we focus on _me_? I’m about to perform my triple Axel-triple loop combination. It only took me one try to get it the way I wanted it.”

“Okay, okay!” his mother says, but leans in to her husband’s ear to coo about the wobbly attempt at a scratch spin the little boy makes before the video cuts to the next scene.

Jump after spin after spin after jump is met with polite and appreciative _ooo_ ’ing and _ahh_ ’ing for Kurt, but increasingly more comments about the boy in the background. Remarks about how cute he looks in his shiny black skates top the charts; followed by commentary on his fashion sense (at one point, he unzips his coat to reveal a dark blue cardigan sweater and a red-and-white polka dot bowtie, which, again, draw more comparisons between the little skater and a young Kurt); and then on his determination and burgeoning skating skill.

But none of his antics, no matter how charming, win Kurt over. The miniature heathen’s attempt at a camel spin completely detracts attention away from Kurt’s perfectly executed quad loop!

How did Kurt not notice this interloper in the background the first time around? He probably did, but just ignored him – THE WAY EVERYONE ELSE SHOULD BE DOING!!

“Okay, guys! Watch this! This is my grand finale quad-triple-triple combination!” Kurt spills the beans even though he’d intended on keeping the details secret, in the hopes of winning back the favor of his fickle audience.

For the first time since they started watching Kurt’s video, a hush falls across the living room, all eyes remaining glued to the screen and (Kurt hopes) his upcoming feat. He’d had to push back pretty far to get the whole combo in from the angle he was filming, but it came out better than he’d hoped, all three jumps – quad Salchow, triple toe loop, triple loop – captured in frame.

“Aw!” the group exclaims in unison as Kurt’s blade hits the ice for the final time. Sebastian flinches. Burt grimaces. Blaine hisses. Elizabeth gasps.

“What?” Kurt looks at their faces, each one marred with an expression of pain. “What’s wrong!? That was perfect! _Picture_ perfect!” Kurt says, gesturing emphatically to the screen where the combination plays again, this time in slow motion.

“No, sweetie. Not that. Your jump was amazing. But the little boy. He fell. See?” Elizabeth says sadly. She grasps her husband’s hand, overwhelmed by the memories of a younger, less experienced Kurt’s falls, the times he landed on his rear when he should have landed on an edge. His watery eyes, his wails of pain, embarrassment, and disappointment, his mother rushing to his side to make sure he was okay.

Kurt turns back to the screen, peering past his own image to see the boy sitting on his backside on the ice, bawling his eyes out, while his mom takes a knee to give him a hug.

“Didn’t you go _help_ him?” Elizabeth asks.

“No,” Kurt says, mildly offended. “Why should I? His mom was there! He was fine!”

“But he fell trying to do the jump you were doing!” his mother points out.

“ _And_ you’re a junior coach,” his dad adds. “Your job is to help skaters at the rink. You should have at least made sure he was okay.”

“I don’t _believe_ this!” Kurt says, throwing up his hands. His mother reaches over Kurt’s knee and snatches the Blu-ray remote. She rewinds the video to replay the poor boy’s fall, presumably to make sure that things turned out okay in the end. Everyone gasps when - beyond the spectacle of Kurt’s own epic landing and impeccable form - the little boy, with eyes on Kurt, sets up to leap into the air, teeters too far backwards, and plops down on his rear. His lower lip trembles, then he drops his head back and sobs. Kurt sighs. He knows when he’s been bested.

In this case, theoretically, he just lost his spot at Cornell to a four-year-old boy in a bowtie and a puff coat.

“Sebastian, go call your friend,” Kurt says, standing from his boyfriend’s lap. “And grab your coat.”

“Why?” Sebastian asks, not taking his eyes off the boy on the screen. He beams when the boy succeeds, through tears, to land a modest Waltz Jump, and cheers along with Elizabeth, Burt, and Blaine when he repeats it two times in a row. Kurt grabs Sebastian’s hand and drags him off the chair.

“We’re going to drive down to your rink and do some horn tooting.”

“Kurt!” Sebastian scolds, following his boyfriend to the front door. “You shouldn’t say things like that in front of your parents!”

Kurt stops a foot from the doorway, confused, but scowls when he figures it out.

“Sebastian! That’s not what I meant!”


End file.
